It was the rejection that hurt the most. (How superficial is that?) That is me however. Faith wanted out. I wanted out too, but I was unwilling to detonate the bomb. I relied on the children for cover on this one. I believed I wanted for them what I had not had and there is certainly some truth to that. I wanted them to have a functional family. Mostly what hurt two years ago when we first separated was the idea that someone did not want me. The rejection was killer for me.
I grew up with my mother in sundry prisons around the United States. I visited her now and then but mostly she was absent. I had just enough of her love to know what I was missing and that hurt like hell. It made me mad. I was even angry when as a teenager my Aunt and Uncle took me into their home like their own child and raised me alongside my cousin and I saw up close the love between my Aunt and her real Daughter. I was jealous and felt some rage deep inside.
I never met or knew my Father, either. My Uncle was pretty great but I did not have my real Father and it felt like rejection that he was not involved and never came forward, even after we had a 10-minute phone conversation when I was 23, (the only time I ever spoke to him or that he was confronted with me so far as I know.)
So when Faith said "I think I want out," I retreated to the child's mind I once had. It did not matter that I had at times longed to be out of this relationship even going so far as to imagine that I could never be the bad guy to tear it apart, opting instead to allow the toxicity of it all to stew so that perhaps she would take on that role. Of course, there were those moments and then there were the other moments when I fancied we should be together forever and that the difficulties we had in marriage represented a certain threshold for improvement, a vast amount of potential in which we could make a working relationship so much better. I kidded myself. There was little working about the relationship.
When the news came that my divorce was final I felt the rejection all over again. It was renewed proof that Faith did not want me. It hurt all over again, perhaps for the wrong reasons. I had been imagining the arrival of this news and how I might feel celebratory, and I think I do feel some of that, too, but the initial response was all about the rejection.
The marriage was textbook bad but I loved that girl. I spent so much of the last 15-16 years of my life involved with her. We have remarkable children. I owe Faith something. I owe it to her to balance my values when I speak of her. I need to tell my story and I think it is important to expose not cover up. I also respect my now ex-wife and am certain the divorce is our shared responsibility.
I have regrets. Its a laundry list, really. I regret the earliest boundaries I set up in that relationship. I laid claim to certain territories that were unassailable in our relationship and those places became wounds that festered and diseased. More than anything I regret my response to her harsh nature.
The early years for us were a whirlwind of partying and sex. We were in love for two or three years and somewhere late in that time I had affairs with others and we became on again off again and Faith was injured deeply. I was naively duplicitous at that time. I believed my own lies. I thought I was searching for some kind of perfect love, my perfect match. I thought this was the biggest concern in my life and I was a fool. It is ironic when we finally decided to be together and to have a child that my argument in favor had evolved to one of suggesting successful relationships were that way because people worked at them. I decided to commit to this relationship and in truth I did in some ways. I stopped seeking out other lovers. That was no small thing for me in those days. That my behavior changed helped convince me of the authenticity of our love.
When I committed to her however, she turned off. I had thought at times the intensity of her love was not so much a con but still a sort of case in favor of. Prior to her pregnancy with Terra and our moving in together finally, Faith was as passionate a lover as I could imagine. When we settled in and nested a dark rain cloud moved in front of the sun of our affections for good. It was pregnancy. It was her body post pregnancy. It was another pregnancy. It was her body post another pregnancy. It was the IUD. It was chemical changes. Until finally it was over.
And my biggest regret is my response to that winter that overcame our love. As an insecure, emotional child, I matched the affections she withheld from me by returning in kind. If I was committed to working on that relationship to make it work, to help it work, I would have behaved differently. I would have loved when I felt unloved. I would have talked about it but not like a petulant child who has had his favorite toy taken away but as a lover and partner in life who wants to add to the other person's life. I should have wanted her to be happier. If I had behaved differently perhaps the arctic frost of our dismay could have melted. I was selfish instead. It was about me and my ego. I was hurt and if she was going to behave that way, remove the love from our lives, then in my eternal quest for balance, (my highest value,) I was obligated to refrain from affection as well.
Every once in a great while I used to try to sit down with Faith and talk about us. I suggested a few times we should have a "state of the union," conversation every New Year's Day to talk about where we were, how we felt, what we wanted, and how we could improve. Yes, yearly was just about how often I wanted to work on this thing. The other 364 days I just wanted to be injured and passive aggressive perhaps so that I could have my old life back.
I am a toad, you know. In some ways. At the same time I can forgive myself, too. I had no examples of really good, functioning relationships growing up. I am conditioned and while I do strive to be a better me, I am imperfect, (like a toad, I suppose.)
Now it is time to move forward. Faith and I have children to raise. We will be connected through them for many years to come and it is to us to set examples. When the relationship was falling apart outwardly and we sought therapy briefly, how to go through a divorce in the best possible way for the children became the essence of our therapy. We spent no time talking about how the relationship might improve. Have we followed through on any of that planning? It is hard to know. I know we try.
I hope Faith finds love again. I want her to have it good. I think she is a better mother when she is happy and while I worry about who might end up being around my kids, if someone came along and made her happy I know Terra and Mark would benefit greatly.
I don't know if I want to find love again. I know I love and I know I am best when I love. I certainly like the idea of giving to someone selflessly as one does when they are in love. Presently I am comfortable with just working on getting better at what I have going on in my life. I want to be better as a Father, as an employee and as a Manager, as a friend, and as a person.
